TELEVISION REVIEW

TELEVISION REVIEW; Crime and Race in England, Both Factual and Fictitious

By CARYN JAMES

Published: January 21, 2002

''Masterpiece Theater'' is the last place anyone would expect to find cutting-edge dramas, especially ones that tackle contemporary social problems. But tonight and next week the series presents daring, engrossing departures from its conventional form, with two very different films shaped by exciting directing and acting and linked by one actual event.

America had the O. J. Simpson case, which brought roiling opinions about racism to the surface, as well as to the media. England had the Lawrence case, which galvanized public opinion about the police and racism after an 18-year-old black man named Stephen Lawrence was attacked and killed by five young white men in London in 1993. The police botched the investigation, the suspects went free, Stephen's parents pursued the case with the equivalent of a civil suit (much like the suit against Mr. Simpson), and eventually a government report declared there was ''institutional racism'' in the police department.

In tonight's extraordinary, gripping film, ''The Murder of Stephen Lawrence,'' the writer and director Paul Greengrass uses the shaky, hand-held camera style of video news to echo the unsettling, real-life dynamics of the case from the Lawrence family's point of view. And Andrew Davies, a veteran of fine ''Masterpiece'' works like ''Moll Flanders'' and ''House of Cards,'' has said he had the Lawrence case in mind while writing the script for next week's surprisingly effective work, an ''Othello'' based in the loosest way on Shakespeare. The hero of this contemporary piece is John Othello, the first black police commissioner in London, who becomes a victim of the jealousy and ambition of his best friend -- Iago transformed into a fellow officer named Ben Jago.

Although ''The Murder of Stephen Lawrence'' is completely scripted, it has the look of ''Dateline'' cameras following the family around. We see Stephen's attackers hurl a racial slur and attack him with no provocation as he waits for a bus. Then we follow his Jamaican-born parents through their long ordeal to get justice, in a film that is moving without descending to mawkish melodrama. (When shown in England, it was praised for its factual accuracy.)

Marianne Jean-Baptiste (''Secrets and Lies'') eloquently plays Stephen's mother, a picture of restraint as she turns her grief into determination. Hugh Quarshie is equally powerful as his father, strong but ultimately guilt-ridden because he could not help his son.

Soon after the murder, media and legal advisers turn up unsolicited at the Lawrences' middle-class house. Media manipulation -- by and of the Lawrences -- is not judged here. It is simply, shrewdly presented as the way of the world. And the Lawrences need help. We see how dismissively the police treat them, how determined the officials are to decide that Stephen provoked the attack.

In court, we see the white suspects as the family would have, smirking throughout. At the trial, the charges against them are thrown out for lack of evidence. Then the Lawrences insist on an inquest called a private prosecution, which rules that Stephen was murdered by a gang of whites but is powerless to touch the suspects, who have already been tried. In 1999 a government review damned the police investigation as incompetent and racist.

That ''institutional racism'' is the backdrop for next Monday's ''Othello,'' which entirely abandons Shakespeare's language. It cuts from a passionate scene of Othello in bed with Dessie (the cloyingly contrived name for Desdemona) to an episode in which the police beat a black suspect to death.

The film is richly photographed and stylized. Eamonn Walker, an English actor known for his utterly convincing role as the American Muslim Said in HBO's prison series, ''Oz,'' is Othello. He makes his name by standing outside his station house on the the night of the attack, raising his arms and declaring to an angry crowd that if the police acted badly they will be held responsible. Set against a dark sky and the glare of lights, this scene is one of many (directed by Geoffrey Saxe) that has an iconic, theatrical feel yet firmly reflects reality. Soon Othello is the new police commissioner, and Jago is incensed at being passed over.

Like ''Stephen Lawrence,'' this film does not bludgeon viewers with social commentary. Instead, the story of Othello's love for and jealousy of Dessie, and of Jago's ambition and manipulation, is set against the backdrop of a racist, media-driven society. When Othello marries Dessie (Keeley Hawes), a white heiress who works as a journalist, they become media darlings. Michael Cass (Richard Coyle), the updated Cassio, is a police officer sent to protect Dessie after racist thugs throw stones through her window -- the perfect setup for Jago to hint that Dessie and Cass are having an affair. Mr. Walker creates a convincingly strong, impassioned Othello, though at times he seems to sigh more than Al Gore at a political debate, reducing Othello's growing suspicions to simple exasperation.

This fascinating, multilayered film suffers from one central flaw, though. Jago's character, as written and as acted by Christopher Eccleston, is too transparent, so obviously slimy that it is hard to believe Othello would fall for his pretence at friendship. Characters in many other films written by Mr. Davies talk directly to the camera, as Jago needlessly does here.

''It was about love,'' he says at the start and again at the end of his story. ''Don't talk to me about race, don't talk to me about politics -- it was love, simple as that.'' By the end, he is more clearly alluding to his own love for Othello, but of course he is wrong about other things. Both of these bold English-made films are about love, race and politics, and resonate with meaning for our own culture.

THE MURDER

OF STEPHEN LAWRENCE

On most PBS stations tonight (check local listings).

Written and directed by Paul Greengrass; director of photography, Ivan Strasburg; production designer, Melanie Allen; produced by Mark Redhead; executive producers, Jeff Pope for Granada Television and Yvette Vanson for Vanson Productions. A Granada Television and Vanson Productions co-production, presented on PBS by WGBH Boston.

Based on the play by William Shakespeare; adapted by Andrew Davies; directed by Geoffrey Saxe; produced by Anne Pivcevic and Julie Gardner; executive producers Jo Wright and Michele Buck for London Weekend Television and Rebecca Eaton for WGBH Boston. A London Weekend Television and WGBH Boston co-production, in association with the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation.